Freedom To Enjoy
by Bizarity
Summary: Oliver's having a little trouble with his life at Puddlemere United. He decides to change the way he lives and go after something he's always wanted.
1. Temptation

Oliver Wood took his share of Field's weight onto his shoulder. Victory wouldn't be victory without cheering and screaming and a weight on his shoulder. Fields jumped down and swung his leg over Bennet's broom which carried them both into the air for a victory lap. The other Puddlemere players joined them and Oliver brought up the rear, noticing every Puddlemere fan who jumped onto their seat to watch the procession. The team lined up along one side of the pitch and dove straight for the ground simultaneously. In a move that had been planned to the very last detail they stopped mere feet above the grass and gracefully sank to the floor. The stadium echoed with cheering and the players waved as they disappeared into the changing rooms.

Most of the players stripped off, dropping their uniforms around the room, and went to continue their conversation in the showers. Oliver, preferring to wait and shower alone, untied his boots.

"Good game," said a voice behind him. "That last save was a cracker." Oliver didn't need to turn around to know who was speaking. Seamus Finnegan, lately of Hogwarts school and the new reserve chaser.

"Thanks," replied Oliver, pulling off his boots and straightening them under the bench. He tried not to look at Seamus if he could avoid it. Seamus wasn't thirteen any more and Oliver no longer thought he was just a late bloomer. Oliver carefully removed and folded his uniform, piece by piece until he had to wrap a towel around his middle to preserve his modesty. His team mates were emerging now, towelling their hair and laughing with each other.

"See you," said Seamus as Oliver made his exit. Oliver chose not to say anything as he made his way into the newly vacated showers. He counted slowly in his head, waiting until he was in the shower with water pouring down his back until he stopped. Oliver was good at controlling his emotions but trying not to think about Seamus was one of the hardest things he'd ever needed to do. Oliver aimed to keep his mind on the team, on their strategies and their next game as he made the water hotter. If he and Seamus weren't on the same team... Oliver only let himself think such things rarely.

Seamus was as close to perfect as Oliver was likely to encounter. He was handsome and sexy without being sleazy. He was fun and funny. He was a good friend and they had things in common. He was openly gay but they were on the same Quidditch team. Puddlemere were doing really well this year, advancing up the league table and ready to tackle the top teams. Oliver lived for his team and he wouldn't compromise that, not for anything. Not even for the lilting accent, the hard muscles and the soft lips of Seamus bloody Finnegan.

Oliver stood in the shower telling himself this until his skin was red as the Gryffindor scarf. By the time he was finished reigning in his emotions the rest of the team had left for their pub, The Moody Thestral, to celebrate. Oliver carefully got dressed and apparatchik himself to the bathrooms of the pub. It was easy to find the team by following the noise. The only seat available was next to Seamus, and the booth was already crowded. Oliver's lips disappeared but he sat down anyway. They had already ordered him a beer.

Oliver ignored the feel of Seamus's leg against his, pretended he didn't see Seamus's lips on the glass. He also ignored the guy in the corner checking Seamus out and pretended not to notice Seamus staring back. He laughed and smiled and talked into the early hours of the morning, glad they didn't have a practice the next day. Eventually people started to leave but Seamus was still so close, practically leaning into Oliver. Oliver, Seamus and Fields were the last to leave, staggering out together. Seamus had his arm round Oliver's neck because Oliver was the only really stable one. Oliver took Fileds home first, using the Floo. When he stepped into the fire he felt Seamus's arm tighten around him. Fields had fallen asleep on the couch before Oliver had made it back to the fire. They stepped into the fire and emerged in Seamus's bedroom. Oliver tried not to look at the bed, tried to push Seamus towards it blind.

"Oliver..." Oliver turned back and disappeared into the fire as quickly as he could, leaving Seamus to find his own place to fall asleep. In his own room, Oliver counted as he removed his clothing and placed it in his washing basket. He kept loosing count and sleep did not come easily. 


	2. Frustration

"Who do you think it is?"

"He said we'd know him."

"I bet it's Owen West. He just left the Cannons." Everyone had something to say and didn't care who was listening. Oliver saw Lawrence Mallory, Puddlemere's manager, walk in and lean on the door.

"I promise he's better than Owen West," said Mallory. He stepped away from the door. "Allow me to present your new seeker," he said as the door opened and Harry Potter walked. Oliver stood up immediately, as did Seamus.

"Harry?" their voices overlapped and Harry just smiled at them.

"Come on," said Mallory. "You'll get over the shock better if you play with him for a bit." Mallory had a point; the team looked awe-struck. Harry looked bashful, but Oliver could see Seamus trying to distract him. Oliver was glad, the team needed a good seeker and with Harry they might even be able to win their game against the Tornados. Practice went badly, the Chasers spent so much time watching Harry that the dropped the Quaffle every time they tried to score. Oliver could tell from the goal hoops that Harry was blaming himself. Fortunately, Mallory was quick and announced keeping-practice. The team were still awe-struck and Oliver had no trouble stopping their goals. Harry and Seamus proved harder, though neither of them would normally shoot. Harry was a fast flyer but predictable. Seamus was different; erratic and determined. He crowed every time Oliver let a goal of his through.

Practice ended early and Mallory suggested a drink in The Moody Thestral; Oliver knew it was a chance for the team to get over their feelings about Harry and felt no guilt in declining. He had better things to do than nurse a single beer and watch Seamus get checked out. He took his usual shower and apparated to Diagon Alley to get a present for his mother's birthday.

At the next practice Oliver noticed that things were much better and assumed they'd got all their questions out in one drunken rush. Probably not the best experience for Harry but quicker was better when they had a match in under a week. They played their team against their reserves in a full game that let Harry experience their style and their tactics. The team won both in terms of goals scored and because Harry caught the snitch. This time no post-practice drink was suggested; it was too close to the match. Everyone showered and went home under strict orders to eat well and rest. Oliver tried but was caught up in images of Puddlemere winning the league, knowing they were top team in Britain. If he played really well in their next few matches, maybe he'd finally get invited to the Quidditch World Cup team. It took him literally counting kneazles before he was able to drop off.

Oliver didn't see how the day of the match dawned, but at eight it was cloudy and mild. Oliver knew it would be warm by push-off at eleven. He took a quick shower and changed into his uniform before apparating to the pitch. Fields, Mallory and Jones were already there, familiarising themselves with the Tornadoes's grounds. Oliver flew intricate designs around both sets of hoops then floated, going over their plays in his head. The rest of the team arrived and warmed-up in their own ways. The Tornadoes team graciously didn't appear until the last minute, having done their warm-up elsewhere.

The match kicked off intensely, both sets of Chasers working themselves hard. Oliver had to block five goals within the first five minutes. The Tornadoes were more used to this level of play and they scored twice in quick succession. Oliver did his best to watch the ball at all times but a badly aimed bludger knocked him sideways just as Puddlemere scored. The response from the stadium wasn't overwhelming but Oliver heard Seamus's delighted scream. The game progressed with the Puddlemere players getting tired and dispirited. Finally, Oliver saw a streak of blue out of the corner of his eye and then Harry was holding the snitch and Seamus was jumping up and down and Oliver was carrying Harry, pressed up against Seamus and wondering why the crowd was still so quiet.

Everything blurred on the way to the changing rooms but once inside Oliver sat down and waited for his heart to stop pounding. Eventually, he had himself back under control and started to undress. Everything shifted suddenly back to normal and he took his shower, got dressed, apparated to The Moody Thestral and sat in the only available seat, next to Seamus, with a cold beer in front of him. The chose The Moody Thestral because it was a quiet pub but tonight was different. More of the tables were occupied and there was a queue for the bar. The rest of the team were on their second drink before Oliver realised why.

"Harry Potter!" A short, sturdy young man with long blond hair was standing next to their table pointing directly at Harry.

"Er, yeah," was all Harry said. Oliver hadn't seen that look since Harry's second year. Eventually, he man got bored and went away. But he was soon replaced by a tall girl in a very tight shirt.

"Harry Potter?" This continued all night. Fans, mostly women, came up to their table and offered to buy Harry drinks, asked him to dance. Oliver was sure that if Harry hadn't been stuck at the back in the middle they would have sat in his lap and refused to move. A few of the girls Harry politely rejected hung around, now staring at Seamus and Lawrence. Once, when Oliver got up to go the loo he'd returned to find his seat taken by a tall gangly boy who looked like he should still be at school. Oliver tried not to watch he and Seamus stare at each other as he took a seat at the bar. The other view was not much better. Nearly every team member had someone young and attractive batting their eyelashes and blowing them kisses. Every team member except Oliver.

It shouldn't have mattered. Quidditch wasn't about popularity or sex. Quidditch was about the game, the tactics, the freedom. Oliver hadn't been in a relationship since he'd left school. Most of the Puddlemere players weren't but Oliver was only just realising that their reason wasn't lack of opportunity. 


	3. Compensation

The image of Seamus with a lanky blond fan wrapped around him was one Oliver couldn't get out of his head. Somehow, it was alright that Harry had adoring fans because he was the best Quidditch player Oliver had ever met and he'd saved the wizarding world from destruction. But Seamus, Mallory, Fields and the rest of them? Oliver didn't see what they had that he didn't. Sure, Seamus was entirely too attractive for his own, or Oliver's, good. But Fields looked like he'd been painfully stretched out and wasn't even a particularly good player. So, why did Fields get so much more out of the game than he did? Oliver didn't care about the money or the girls but he wanted some of that recognition. He wanted little kids in the street to ask for his autograph and tell him he'd made them want to be a keeper. Perhaps that was the problem; no one really ever wanted to be a keeper. Except for Oliver.

Now that Harry was on the team Oliver couldn't get through a practice without some reminder of all that he was missing out on. Alan Sheedy, the assistant, would stagger past under a sack of fan mail or some giggling girls would break into the stadium to watch Harry. Although most of the attention was focused on Harry the rest of the team still got an equal share. Mallory got crayon scribbles that were apparently supposed to be of him holding the Quidditch World Cup trophy which was fair enough as he was captain. But Seamus had mail stuffed with girls' under-things and he'd only played one public match! Harry had made the team famous overnight but not all the fans had chosen to favour him. The grating thing was that none of them seemed to have chosen Oliver. At first, Oliver had just felt sorry for himself but after an intensive shooting practice during which he'd saved every single goal his feelings started to change. While the hot water of the shower relaxed his tense muscles Oliver started to wind himself up. None of the other players had been at this team as long as he had. None of them had given up as much of their lives to serve the team as he had. Why were they recognized and adored?

"Alright, Oliver?" Seamus stepped into the shower stall next to him. Oliver averted his eyes in time to avoid seeing a very naked Seamus. But the thought of naked Seamus remained in his head. This was what he had to give up in order to do what was best for the team. Slowly, Oliver opened his eyes. There was obviously no point making sacrifices for the good of the team if no one was ever going to appreciate him for it. He turned his head to face Seamus's back and let himself take in the figure of his team mate. The hair was shades of gold clinging and dripping. The shoulders invited Oliver to run his hands over the curves. Oliver couldn't believe he was letting his eyes slip lower and lower. As the water cooled down Oliver's self-control started to return. He tore his eyes away from Seamus before he could get caught staring. He let himself settle back into his usual routine of getting dressed.

He couldn't exert quite the same degree of control over his thoughts. If he wasn't going to get any recognition for all that he gave to Puddlemere then it made more sense to get on with his own life and forget about the life of the team. He should go for what was best for him, what he wanted. What he wanted was currently still naked in the showers. He'd been training himself for so long not to think of Seamus that way that he couldn't let go. He couldn't let himself think of what he could do, might want to do. Well, they were going to the pub tonight. Maybe if he got drunk enough he'd be able to think without all these inhibitions. That was what drink was supposed to be for, after all, and Oliver had never really allowed himself to take advantage of that.

A few of his team mates raised their eyebrows when Oliver ordered a firewhisky instead of his usual beer. It was strong stuff; he could tell from the burning feeling it left in his throat. By the time Seamus arrived Oliver was on his second and could only think that Seamus had chosen to stay naked for a very long time. Still, his mind wouldn't quite allow his body to react in the normal way to that thought and so Oliver ordered himself another. When he ordered his fourth he was pretty sure Fields made some cocky remark but by then he was feeling a little too blurry to understand it properly. What he could understand was that Seamus's leg was pressing against his own and that it felt good. So, when another lanky school-boy came to try and wind himself around Seamus Oliver pushed him away. He tried to wind himself around Seamus's neck but didn't seem to move from his seat.

The evening slipped away and Oliver still couldn't seem to get his body and his brain to communicate properly but he did push another three fans away from Seamus and he managed to order a few more drinks. When it finally came time to go home Oliver found he couldn't quite walk straight and was intensely happy to find that Seamus offered to help by winding an arm around his waist. They were the last two to make it out of the doors and Oliver stumbled, sending him and Seamus into the wall. Oliver's body suddenly jumped to obey orders and he smashed his lips into Seamus's face, missing his lips by several inches. The next time was more successful; Oliver found Seamus's open mouth and pushed his tongue into it. Oliver thought he was enjoying it, particularly Seamus's hands pushing hard into his chest. Until he realised those hands were pushing him away and Seamus's mouth had been open to tell him to get off.

"But why?" Oliver had lost all control and the only thing keeping him from pressing Seamus into the wall was Seamus's strength.

"Because you're drunk," said Seamus. "And I'm sober enough to stop you from doing this." Oliver felt a tugging on his wrist and eventually figured out that Seamus was dragging him towards the floo. Holding him upright Seamus took him home, letting him collapse onto his neatly made bed.

"Seamus..." But he was gone. 


End file.
